Chapter 8 Cruise ship trip

Chapter 8: Chapter 8 Cruise ship trip

One of the bodyguards stepped forward.

He was tall, broad shouldered, with a shaved head and a scar above his left eyebrow. His eyes swept over her from head to toe, not in a disrespectful way, but in the way of someone trained to assess threats.

His voice was deep and firm. "Wait. We need to check you, ma’am."

Daisy’s eyes widened. She shook her head quickly.

Check her? How could they check her? This was a hospital, not their private property. She was here to see her grandfather-in-law. She had every right to be here.

She shook her head again, more firmly this time. Her dark hair swayed across her shoulders.

The bodyguard looked at his colleague. The two men exchanged a glance.

They had a problem.

This was a woman. A young, fragile-looking woman with big dark eyes and a face that looked like it had never harmed anyone. She was holding shopping bags, for God’s sake. Pink shopping bags with a department store logo.

They couldn’t pat her down. They couldn’t force her.

Their second boss had given strict orders: check everyone. But there were limits. This wasn’t their territory. This was a public hospital. And this woman... she looked like a soft breeze could knock her over.

The first bodyguard scratched the back of his neck. "Ma’am, we just need to make sure you’re not carrying anything dangerous. For everyone’s safety."

Daisy shook her head again. She pulled out her small notebook and wrote quickly:

I am here to see my grandfather-in-law. James Evermont. Room 412. I have been here many times. I am not a threat.

She showed the notebook to the bodyguard.

He read it. His expression softened slightly. So this woman was even mute. What could she possibly do to harm them?

"Evermont," he muttered to his colleague. "The old man in 412."

The other bodyguard nodded. "Boss’s room is three doors down. We can’t take chances."

They looked at Daisy again.

She looked back at them. Her eyes were still wide, still nervous, but her jaw was set. Her chin lifted slightly.

The first bodyguard sighed.

"Okay. Okay. We can’t... we can’t pat you down. But we have a scanner."

He gestured to another guard, who appeared with a handheld metal detector, similar to what airport security used. This one was smaller and non-invasive and looked a bit more complicated.

"We’ll just scan you. Quick and easy. You won’t even feel it."

Daisy hesitated. Then she nodded.

She set down her shopping bags on the floor, stepped back, and raised her arms slightly.

The bodyguard with the scanner moved the wand over her body. Head to toe. Front to back. The device beeped softly at her belt buckle, a small decorative one on her dress, but nothing else.

The bodyguard lowered the scanner. "She’s clean."

The first bodyguard stepped aside. "You can go, ma’am. Sorry for the trouble."

Daisy picked up her shopping bags. She looked at the bodyguards with an angry expression, her brows furrowed, her lips pressed together, her dark eyes flashing with irritation.

But her angry look was even more lovely. Her cheeks flushed pink. The soft lines of her face, usually so sad and resigned, became even more lively.

The bodyguards noticed. One of them coughed and looked away.

The other suddenly became very interested in the ceiling.

Daisy didn’t notice their reactions. She turned on her heel and walked down the hallway toward Grandpa’s room, her footsteps echoing on the marble floor.

She pushed open the door to Room 412 and stepped inside.

The inviting familiarity of the space enveloped her. A subtle lavender aroma, emanating from the diffuser Margaret consistently maintained, permeated the air. Grandpa James occupied his armchair by the window, a blanket draped across his lap as he engrossed himself in a book. Upon noticing her, he gently set aside his reading, a faint smile gracing his pallid features.

James’s voice was weak but happy. "You’re back. Did you buy something pretty?"

Daisy nodded. She held up her shopping bags and pulled out the pink cashmere top, showing it to him.

James’s eyes crinkled with joy. "Pink. Your mother’s favorite color. I remember." He reached out and touched the sleeve. "Soft. Good quality. You deserve nice things, child."

Daisy smiled. She sat in the chair beside him and pulled out her notebook.

They talked for a while.

Well, Daisy wrote and Grandpa read. She told him about the mall, about the kind cashier, about how she found the sweater on a mannequin and knew it was the one. She didn’t tell him about the bodyguards in the hallway. She didn’t want to worry him.

James listened. He nodded. He asked questions. He told her stories about his late wife, Jasmine, who also loved pink and cashmere and shopping at small boutiques instead of big stores.

James’s voice grew softer. "You remind me of her. Not in looks but in kindness... In gentleness. She never raised her voice. Neither do you."

Daisy’s heart hurt.

She wrote: I cannot raise my voice even if I wanted to.

James read the words. His eyes grew sad.

"Ah, child. I forgot. Forgive an old man’s foolish tongue."

Daisy shook her head quickly. She reached over and squeezed his papery hand.

No forgiveness needed. I liked being compared to her.

James smiled again but his eyes were tired.

Within the hour, his head began to nod, a clear indication of drowsiness caused by the medication. His speech became noticeably slower and softer. Daisy, observing these changes, suggested he rest. He assented with a nod. She then led him to his bed, carefully pulling the blanket to cover his shoulders, and finally, kissed his forehead.

Then she tucked her notebook back into her bag and walked to the small kitchen area.

Margaret was there, chopping vegetables for soup. She looked up with kind eyes.

Margaret’s voice was gentle. "You haven’t eaten all day, have you, dear?"

Daisy blinked. How did she know?

Margaret smiled. "I can see it in your face. You look so thin and tired. You must have forgotten to eat because of shopping." She set down her knife. "Sit. I’ll make you something."

Daisy shook her head. She didn’t want to be a burden.

Margaret’s voice was firm. "Nonsense. You’re skin and bones. Sit."

Daisy sat.

Margaret made her a simple meal, warm bread with butter, a bowl of tomato soup, a glass of fresh orange juice. Nothing fancy but to Daisy, who had eaten nothing all day except the hope that maybe Cedric would remember she existed, it tasted like heaven.

She ate slowly.

Margaret watched her with sad eyes but said nothing. How good it would be if this child could speak.

After eating, Daisy helped Margaret wash the dishes. Then she settled into the small armchair near Grandpa’s bed, her shopping bags tucked beneath the chair, her phone in her hands.

She opened it without thinking. She checked Jessica’s social media.

Jessica always posted everything. Her breakfast. Her outfits. Her expensive gifts. Her nights out with Cedric. She loved showing the world that she was the real woman in Cedric Evermont’s life, not the mute doll his grandfather had forced on him.

Daisy scrolled. Her beautiful dark eyes flashed with a hint of sadness seeing the recent posts.

Jessica on a cruise ship. A massive white cruise ship with blue railings and a sparkling pool and waiters carrying trays of champagne. Jessica in a red bikini, her bronze skin glowing, her red hair blowing in the ocean wind.

Jessica holding Cedric’s hand.

Jessica kissing Cedric’s cheek.

Jessica wearing a diamond necklace that Daisy had never seen before, new, obviously, bought just for this trip.

The caption read: "Best surprise ever! My love took me on a 3-day cruise! Just us, the ocean, and forever."

Daisy zoomed in on the background of one photo.

She saw Cedric. Half of his face, anyway. He was smiling, he never gave her such a real smile.

Jessica never posted a full picture of Cedric but Daisy could recognize him.

Her thumb hovered over the screen.

Three days.

Cedric had told her to stay with Grandpa for two days. But the cruise was three days.

He had planned this. He had sent her to the hospital specifically so he could take Jessica on a cruise ship.

Daisy locked her phone. She set it face down on the small table beside her.

She felt jealous because she loved the beach.

She had always loved the beach. Before the accident, her family went to the coast every summer. Her father taught her how to build sandcastles. Her mother taught her how to find seashells. They would walk along the shore at sunset, holding hands.

It was the only place Daisy had ever felt truly peaceful and Cedric knew this.

She had told him once. Early in the marriage days, when she still believed he might care. She had written in her notebook: I love the beach. Maybe we could go someday?

He had glanced at the words and said nothing. He had never taken her.

But he took Jessica.

Of course he took Jessica. Jessica could laugh on the deck. Jessica could order cocktails at the bar. Jessica could talk to the other passengers and make friends and be the perfect companion that Daisy could never be.

Daisy hugged her knees to her chest. She stared at the wall.